


Defiling the Christmas Tree

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Bribing with Baked Goods, Christmas Tree, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: The Avengers Christmas tree was twenty feet high and covered in homemade ornaments, most of them from children, and Peter had made it his mission to look at every single one. The bottom portions of the tree were what held most of his fascination, though. Letters. So many letters they had to be put on branches three deep. Peter lost himself in their words, their lives, their inspiration, finding tears in his eyes more often than his mask could really take care of.And right in the middle, done up in red crayon with a doodle of a familiar mask, was the last thing Peter ever expected to see. He snatched it off the tree and read it again. Then again, blinking hard to assure himself that he was looking at what he thought he was.“Fucking Deadpool,” he muttered under his breath, tucking the paper into the sleeve of his suit and zipping out the nearest open window in search of an idiot to yell at.Or, Wade has a request only Spidey can fulfill and puts it in a place he knows it will be seen.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559260
Comments: 9
Kudos: 186





	Defiling the Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written based off a prompt submitted to my tumblr anonymously. The original [prompt](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/post/189445177566/spideypool-wade-wrote-spider-mans-dick-on-his): _Wade wrote "Spider-man's dick" on his Christmas wish list as a joke. He didn't expect Spider-man to find it and deliver._
> 
> Thank you to [doctoring](doctor-ing.tumblr.com) for speed-reading this one for me at literally the 11th hour!
> 
> Expect pictures of the molasses cookies I'm going to be making later this month as a direct result of this fic.
> 
> I do not consent to my stories being listed on Goodreads or other book platforms.

The Avengers Christmas tree was twenty feet high and covered in homemade ornaments, most of them from children, and Peter had made it his mission to look at every single one. There were school pictures of first graders with missing front teeth, covered in glitter and framed in popsicle sticks; drawings of the Avengers fighting in battle, also covered in glitter and framed in popsicle sticks. Peter found a whole cluster of flour-based sculptures of oddly proportioned super heroes covered in thick layers of flaking craft paint. Half of them were of Banner in full green, a good fourth of them Peter with thick stripes of spider webbing in red-streaked black paint. Peter loved every single one, and made a note with JARVIS to make sure whoever took the tree down after Christmas boxed them away for him so he could keep them forever.

The bottom portions of the tree were what held most of his fascination, though. Letters. So many letters they had to be put on branches three deep. Children thanking them for saving their lives, for fighting the “bad guys”, for inspiring them to do their bests in the face of a pantone palette of awful situations. Peter’s heart broke for each one of them, and warmed a moment later knowing that he was able to help inspire them to push forward in even the bleakest of moments.

Peter lost himself in their words, their lives, their inspiration, finding tears in his eyes more often than his mask could really take care of. And right in the middle, done up in red crayon with a doodle of a familiar mask, was the last thing Peter ever expected to see. He snatched it off the tree and read it again. Then again, blinking hard to assure himself that he was looking at what he thought he was.

“Fucking _Deadpool_ ,” he muttered under his breath, tucking the paper into the sleeve of his suit and zipping out the nearest open window in search of an idiot to yell at.

-

Wade was elbows-deep into his famous molasses cookies when a piece of paper flew at the back of his head at high velocity. It bounced off his neck and fell to the linoleum at his feet with a sad little flop.

“In the kids’ Christmas letters, Wade? Really?” Spidey snapped at him a moment before his masked face appeared in front of Wade, hanging upside down from his ceiling.

Wade’s hands were covered in cookie dough, but even if he didn’t pick up the note, he knew what it said. He grinned up at Spidey and licked cookie dough from his fingers. “Only the truth, baby boy. You gonna be my Secret Santa this year?”

“Fuck you, Wade. You defiled the sanctity of the kids’ Christmas tree. You should be whipped for irreverent behavior and locked in a basement.”

“Ohh, are you doing the whipping? Because I love a good corporal punishment. I’d get on my knees and bare my ass for your hand any day.”

Spidey grabbed a spatula from the utensil draw and wielded it at him. “Who said I’d use my hand?”

Wade’s insides melted at the thought, and he gave Spidey the biggest heart eyes ever, clapping his cookie dough hands together happily. “Ooo, you can spank me with whatever you want.”

Spidey’s mouth pinched under the mask, and he directed the spatula accusingly at Wade’s head, clearly not liking that answer. “You are the worst. I was enjoying myself, having a nice afternoon reading all the letters from kids saying how much we inspire them and help them be strong in the face of some really shitty things. I had actual tears in my eyes, Wade. Tears!” He waved the spatula around indignantly, flecks of cookie crumbs flying.

“That sounds very inspiring, Webs,” Wade said, starting to suck his index finger into his mouth to clean the molasses dough off. If it gave Spidey ideas at the same time, well, bonus effect.

“It was! And then I see a Christmas list written in crayon with your stupid face on it. And what’s on that list?” Peter sent a web at the balled up paper and snapped it open like a fan, turning it to face Wade. “’Spider-Man’s dick,’” he quoted with a wry stare at Wade. “What the fuck does that mean, Wade? Do you want to suck my dick? Swap dicks? Do you want me to make a dildo of my dick? Fuck you with my dick?”

“Is all of the above an option?” Wade asked around his middle finger, voice muffled.

“You put that next to a sad letter from a little girl who’s being bullied for having vitiligo, talking about how much Domino being a hero makes her feel brave. What makes you think that deserves any interaction with my dick?”

“You make zero percent of the shots you don’t take, baby. Santa owes me for all the times I’ve saved his ass. Figured it was worth the ask.”

Spidey flung the paper at him again. “Santa has nothing to do with my dick. And neither will you if you don’t stop pulling this shit. What if Tony found that instead of me? Or—“

The kitchen timer interrupted the rant. Spidey turned at the sound like it offended him more than Wade’s letter. “What’s that? What are you making, anyway? It smells weird.”

Wade was busy scraping bits of dough off his hands so he could open the oven without making a mess. The cookies had smoothed out and plumped nicely, the sugar dusting shimmering softly in the overhead lights. The smell of warm molasses and fresh baked cookies filled the kitchen when Wade opened the oven door, and Spidey made a surprised, happy noise. “Oh my god, those smell amazing,” he said as Wade grabbed a hot pad to pull them out and set them on the counter behind him.

“I thought you said they smelled weird.”

“The dough does. Those smell like heaven. What are they?” Spidey dropped from the ceiling, reaching for one like he was going to snatch it off the cookie sheet without waiting for it to cool. Wade took the spatula from his hand and smacked it in warning.

“No cookie-related injuries for you, hot stuff. Some things are too hot. Gotta wait for them to cool off. Like your temper.”

Spidey turned to him with a pout Wade could only tell because his shoulders slumped just a little. “You defiled the Christmas tree,” he said.

Wade had him boxed back against the counter between his arms before he had time to move and loomed into his space with a salacious grin. “I’ll defile more than just the Christmas tree if you’ll let me.”

Spidey slipped under his arm easily and turned to the bowl of dough next to the sink, lifting his mask up as he moved to peer into the bowl. “What kind of cookies are you making, anyway?” he asked, ignoring Wade’s comment.

Wade wasn’t going to be deterred. Spidey couldn’t have been that mad to have brought the letter straight to Wade’s house instead of getting him barred from Avengers Tower or worse as punishment. Spidey only showed up if he was interested, like a cat with a toy. “Why don’t you guess?” he asked, pressing up against Spidey’s side and scooping a clump of dough onto one finger to hold up to his mouth.

Spidey hesitated, but only long enough to look up into Wade’s face before he leaned over and sucked the finger into his mouth, moaning over the taste of the dough immediately. His tongue flicked around Wade’s finger, exploring and cleaning off the stray dough. Wade almost melted into the floor, it was so hot.

“Wanna suck more off my dick?” he asked.

Spidey bit him hard in retaliation and let go of his hand. “Don’t push your luck. I want some of those cookies, though. As compensation for the mental stress of what you did to the kids’ tree.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find my compensation package more than generous.” Wade winked, glorying in the pained sound it earned him. He turned away, wanting to get the cookies off their sheets and onto the cooling racks before their bottoms burned. Molasses was a tricky bitch, but he was going to use it to get to the bottom of Spidey’s tights if it killed him.

He pried the cookies off the sheet while Spidey watched, aware of how close and warm he was during the entire task. Too close, but Wade wasn’t going to complain. He hummed along to the Christmas music playing from the overhead speaker while he worked, mumbling ‘ _My Christmas tree’s delicious…_ ’ along with Lady Gaga and swaying his hips a little.

Webs reached for a cookie again with his gloves on and Wade smacked his hand with the spatula a second time. “Were you raised in a barn? Gloves off if you’re eating. Don’t be gross, Webs.”

“I’ve watched you eat an ice cream cone after it fell into a gutter and you’re lecturing me about being gross?” he protested, but he still took off the gloves like Wade asked. With his mask up, Wade got to watch the way his expression morphed into pleased disbelief at the first bite of perfection. “Oh fuck, this is better than my aunt’s Christmas Crack. What are these? Are you a baking wizard? What the fuck?” Peter ate the entire cookie in two bites and reached for another while still chewing.

“Molasses cookies, my specialty. Learned how to make them from a little old lady I helped cross the street in Midtown traffic during a blizzard. Very sweet of her.”

Webs gave him a deadpan look just before shoving another cookie in his mouth.

“Okay, so I found it on Pinterest. They’re still delicious, right?”

Spidey nodded, replying with half-eaten cookie still crowding his mouth. “Unfairly so.”

“Good enough to get me the only thing on my Christmas list?”

Spidey didn’t answer right away. He finished the second cookie and reached for another, thought better of it and went to the fridge to pull out the milk and pour himself a glass. Wade watched the entire performance in silence, patience he didn’t even know he had keeping him still. Sometimes, it was better to wait Webs out instead of talking him to death. Sometimes.

Spidey ate two more cookies in silence, dunking them in the milk before swallowing them like they were leprechaun gold about to disappear from his mouth if he didn’t chew them fast enough. He downed the rest of the milk in three fast gulps and turned to Wade again, planting the empty glass on the counter next to him. “Okay,” he said finally, simple and succinct.

Wade was on his knees so fast he felt one of the bones crack, but he was already so focused on figuring out how to get Spidey’s tights down that he barely noticed.

“What, now? Right here? Don’t you have cookies to make?”

“Fuck the cookies. I can make more cookies. You might never let me at your dick again. No way I’m passing this up.” Wade had the tights down mid-sentence, but paused at the jock underneath. It was hiding the prize, but was also sort of a prize all its own, and Wade had no idea what the fuck to do about it except make an unintelligible noise and bury his nose in the junction between jock and thigh.

Spidey was frowning down at him, his jaw set in that way that said he didn’t know what to do with Wade. So he grabbed another cookie instead and started munching with a happy little noise, and Wade… Wade got to enjoying his own treat.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), [Tumblr](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), [NewTumbl](https://mscaptainwinchester.newtumbl.com/), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).
> 
> And if you'd like to come yell about Spideypool with me, join the 18+ Discord server I co-mod, [Isn't It Bromantic](https://discord.gg/w6UyAn7)!


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